Procrastination
I’m what you might call a procrastinator. It’s not as if I don’t enjoy doing things or getting things done, but it’s more like I enjoy doing things in my own time and it just so happens the time is usually somewhere later on.
In recent years, procrastination has often been seen as a negative trait. I blame much of this negativity on overeager yuppies hyped up on double-shot Caffè Mochas. Compared to these select individuals, everyone looks like a slacker, and procrastinators are often seen as unmotivated couch potatoes.
Despite the bad reputation they generally receive, procrastinators are battle-tested. They understand deadlines, and stress is often their friend. If a report needs to be done in six months, then by all means give it to someone else. But if a comprehensive ten-page report is suddenly needed by tomorrow, you had better give it to the procrastinator because they have surely worked under such strenuous conditions before.
It should come as no surprise that I haven’t yet joined the crowd in the rush to the malls for Christmas shopping. As a procrastinator, my annual Christmas panic officially begins today. Die hard procrastinators still have a couple of weeks to hold off from shopping, but I’ve learned from past experience that putting Christmas shopping off for too long can sometimes result in choosing between nail-clippers and a popcorn popper as gifts.
I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for procrastination, and undoubtedly there has been much written on the topic. I have every intention of researching the subject in full, but I’ll get to it a little later.